MacArthur Park Shall Come To Hazlington Woods
by Roofran411
Summary: The boys' school have an inset day, Piers decides to have a picnic and Kate takes a day off


MACARTHUR PARK SHALL COME TO HAZLINGTON WOODS

Not long ago I did my second Shuffle Challenge. I had ten songs, wrote nine snippets but could not rise to the tenth, MacArthur Park!

Rather rashly, I threw down the challenge that if anyone could write a story to it, to let me know. My fellow FF writer and Rooftopper, EHFan did better. She generously gave **me** the idea and told me, yes, I could do it.

It turned into more than a 4 minute snip.

.

This is for you, EHFan my friend , with my thanks.

My thanks also to **William Shakespeare ** who created Petruchio and Kate, to** Sally Wainwright** who dragged them into the 21st century, and of course to **Rufus Sewell** and **Shirley Henderson** who brought them to life.

.

The song , of course is **MacArthur Park** by **Jimmy Webb** sung by **Richard Harris** .

[Chorus]

MacArthur's Park is melting in the dark  
All the sweet, green icing flowing down  
Someone left the cake out in the rain  
I don't think that I can take it  
'Cause it took so long to bake it  
And I'll never have that recipe again  
Oh no!

….  
There will be another song for me  
For I will sing it  
There will be another dream for me  
Someone will bring it  
I will drink the wine while it is warm  
And never let you catch me looking at the sun  
And after all the loves of my life  
After all the loves of my life  
You'll still be the one  
. _ .

.

MACARTHUR PARK SHALL COME TO HAZLINGTON WOODS

.

"Daddy, Daddy, no school on Monday, we've got the day off."

Lexi and I were sitting in the kitchen at Hazlington as the boys burst in, their father behind them.

"That's the first I've heard about. Didn't you have a note? Hang your coats up."

"No! We don't have notes now. WE told you! They are going to send e-mails now."

"You've forgotten, haven't you?"

"Daddy, you've got to check your mails every day now"

My love's groan said that he had indeed forgotten.

He avoided his laptop like the plague.

I bit into my scone to hide my smile.

"I did suggest that school mails were sent to my office but you said..."

"Kate, there is no point in sending mails to you when you could be out of the county." he snarled.

"No point in sending them to you if you never read them."

He muttered something under his breath as he rummaged in the clutter on the counter for his laptop. He booted it up.

"Another bloody sodding inset day. Do they have to have so many? Don't they get enough time off as it is?"

"Don't swear in front of the children. Does it matter anyway? Are you doing anything? Jenny and Mrs Matthews can help out if you are."

"NO. No but I like to be organised. "

"Hah!"

Three pairs of enormous trusting green eyes watched him. Rupert the eldest, serious, responsible; Michael, in the middle, outgoing, noisy; the youngest, Peter, the quiet dreamer. Our identical triplets, seven years old, so alike yet so different.

"Well, we'll have to decide what we'll do, won't we?"

He winked at them. "No problem."

No, no problem, there never would be a problem with spending time with them.

He adored them. They adored him. Life was fun with Daddy, how could it not be.

Harry said once he was childish and would never grow up.

That isn't so!

I would say he was childlike.

Full of fun, he could be as young as the boys, a master at playing their games. That didn't mean he could not be serious and responsible; it was that he just did not want to be.

I watched him as I took another bite of my scone.

It was Friday afternoon. I was always home early on Friday, Mrs Matthews and Jenny finished just after two p.m, and Piers cooked dinner early so that we could all eat together before Lexi went to bed and we watched TV with the boys for a while.

"What's for supper, Daddy?"

"Crick's Mix" he replied to loud hurrays. This was a great favourite. A concoction of his, every and anything thrown in together in a Newman's BBQ sauce and served with spaghetti.

"What's for afters?"

"Rice pudding."

More cheers.

"'_Out numbered_' tonight "I said to the boys.

"Yay!"

"I do not think that programme is good for them." Piers said, rather sanctimoniously." It gives them ideas. It will teach them to be cheeky."

"Yes, I've noticed how you never laugh at it."

"Humph!"

.

Saturday morning at breakfast, Piers said "I've decided! On Monday, we will go for a picnic in Hazlington Woods. We'll go fishing first, have a ramble and eat. My serious eldest son said "Daddy, is Lexi big enough to fish?"

My love's suddenly change of expression and slow nod of his head meant he had completely forgotten about Lexi.

"Is Lexi coming?"

The one in question realised she was being talked about and was not going to miss out on anything. She stood on her chair.

"ME! ME! ME! Me too!"

"Yes, of course, you too, my angel."

She bounced up and down on her chair until she missed her footing and almost fell off, her father catching her in time. He swung her up in the air. Father and daughter in their mutual adoration society

"Right, first a trip into Charlbury to Waitrose for some goodies and then we will get the picnic basket out of the attic ...and the fishing rods."

Usually our 'big shop' is done by Mrs Matthews or Piers on his own so this was a treat for the boys. They are still of an age when a trip to the supermarket is exciting but anyway, Piers has this ability to make everything seem fun.

After lunch we trooped up to the attics to rummage in a couple of hundred years of junk for the picnic basket.

"It will be in the first attic," my love said confidently as the children whooped joyfully in discovery of long forgotten things.

Indeed it was, along with two others, one the size of a clothes hamper, another only slightly smaller.

"This is the one. Now the fishing rods…"

They scrambled over broken chairs, discarded toys, all sorts of rubbish.

"Here we are!" He lifted three or four fishing bags to me. "Let's see what we've got."

He stepped awkwardly over some boxes and reaching out, steadied himself on some things precariously balanced on a chest of drawers.

"Hey! What's this doing up here?"

"My coat! I looked everywhere for this! "He looked accusingly at me. "Do you put this up here?"

I widened my eyes at him innocently, my hand on my chest.

"Me-e? I never come up here."

He looked suspiciously at me.

"You never liked it."

True! I have never liked the tatty old faux fur coat.

It was ancient; I hate to think how old it was and or even where he had got it from in the first place.

"Piers, I never put it up here."

I could say that in all honesty.

I did not put it up here; I told Jenny to hide it up here.

The suspicion was still there.

"I bet if I had a look around, I would find my jumper too."

Now that was another matter.

"Oh, come on, that jumper was past redemption."

He was wearing the teal coloured jumper when I met him and it was pretty dreadful then; thick and matted from numerous washings, it had shrunk until it barely fitted him. Over the years since, his elbows had worn through and holes and runs had begun appear in the body.

He loved it and for some peculiar reason, I could put up with that moth eaten old rag where I could not bear the dreadful coat.

He put it onto the pile of fishing bags and the basket to be taken downstairs and they continued to search with yells of joy for treasure and I. . , I plotted how quickly and discreetly I could contrive to make the fur coat disappear again.

Saturday had been warm and sunny; Sunday, less so, becoming cloudy as the day rolled on.

The weather forecast for Monday said cooler_, cloudy, with outbreaks of rain! _

And there was already a dampness in the air.

Hmm!

"Do you think you ought to call it off?"

"Oh no-oh! It will be fine. You'll see."

"Everything will be damp."

"No-o"

Ok my love, I thought, it's your problem.

My Monday was to be given over to an all day meeting with my Chancellor Tim, the Chairman of the Bank of England and Mme Lagarde, the Director of the International Monetary Fund.

But sometimes Fate steps in and takes a hand.

.

About one a.m. my phone buzzed. A bit muzzy, I took it.

Mme Lagarde had had a fall. It was possible that our meeting might have to be cancelled. They would let me know.

"What was that?" My love nuzzled sleepily into me.

"Nothing, love. Go back to sleep."

The children were up bright and early, full of excitement.

It was a grey day and a fine wet mist was already in the air.

We were having breakfast when Downing Street rang again.

Mme Lagarde's fall was quite nasty; she had broken her leg and would be in the operating theatre this morning. What did I want to do about my meeting? Did I want to cancel it?

"Of course! No point without Mme Lagarde!" I snapped.

Did I have any preferences as regards re-arranging my day?

"No, don't do anything. I won't be in today."

The words were out of my mouth before I knew it. I was going back to bed.

My family looked at me.

It was unheard of for me to take an unscheduled day off.

"I am going to have a couple of hours sleep."

"You can come with us, Mummy; this afternoon, on the picnic." Rupert said.

"Yes, yes Mummy."

Piers shoved a piece of toast in his mouth, "That would be nice, sweetheart."

"Yes, Mummy, please."

"Yes, yes, it _would_ be nice."

Now, with a husband and both sets of grandparents having homes here in the UK and in Milan, each with several hundred acres of countryside surrounding them, most people would assume that I am a country girl.

I am not.

I am a city girl.

It is not that I do not like the country.

I do.

It is just that I like it best sitting on the terrace, in the sunshine, with a glass of Pimms in my hand and a jug of more of the same on the table beside me.

I sat with my mouth half opened, then surprised myself for the second time that early morning.

"Yes, it would be lovely, my darlings."

.

I drifted up out of my sleep not knowing what had woken me. I became aware that I was being watched. I opened my eyes and looked into a pair of huge dark ones.

"Daddy said I mussun wake you. I diddunt, did I, Mummy? I waited for you."

"No, darling."

Lexi clambered up on the bed and was wriggling her way under the bedclothes.

"Have you got your shoes on?" she stopped to pull them off and squashed herself in against me.

"We's all ready. Daddy's maked a lovely pinnic.

"Pic nic."

"Mm, crisps, sossidges, jam sammiches, strawby jam, lotsa fwoot, cake, hard eggs, cheese." she wrinkled her nose at the last mentioned. "We's got to wear our wellies and our macs, Daddy says"

I thought that sounded ominous.

"Is it raining, darling?"

She sat up again and nodded vigorously.

"Yes, Daddy said it's more fun, and the fish bite better. Why do the fish bite us, Mummy?"

My heart sank. If there is one thing worse than tramping through the woods, it's tramping through the woods in the rain.

"Come on, let me get up and we'll find Daddy."

"Daddy said they bite us, Mummy. Why do they bite us? Will they bite me?"

.

We had our lunch and the rain continued; the fine persistent English rain that appears to be very light but soaks you to the skin in no time at all.

"Do you think we should call it off?" I suggested tentatively.

"Heavens no! It'll stop soon! " he said confidently.

I glanced out of the window doubtfully.

"It seems as though it is set in for the rest of the day."

"So? A little rain never hurt anyone. Come on my sweet, don't be such a wimp."

If there is anything I can't stand is the English males' Gung Ho! Let's go out and build Empires' attitude.

I wonder too, when my beloved said he would conquer Kingdoms for me, if he meant that I was supposed to trudge after him in the rain!

"I think we'll take the Land Rover. Yeah?

"We have to take the Range Rover, Piers." I said flatly.

"The ground may be a bit soft …"

"The Land Rover might be better for soft ground but it only has a front bench seat. The Range Rover has back seats and what is more important," I was warming up now. "it has seat belts for the children."

It is also top of the range and has extremely comfortable upholstery.

"Oh Kay! We'll take the Range Rover."

I cleared away after lunch and Piers and the boys loaded up the Range Rover; picnic basket, rugs fishing bags.

I dressed Lexi in her waterproofs and Wellington boots and then donned mine

"Daddy, the rods are too big for Lexi."

"Oh, we'll find one."

"No Daddy, they are all much too big."

"Me, Me, "Lexi had to have her say. "Daddy, and me."

"I will make one for you when we get there. Come on Kate, get in."

I took one last exasperated look at the weather and got in. We drove half way down the drive and turned onto the metalled road that circled the estate. After about three or four miles, a bridle path led off it. This led into Hazlington Woods. My love took various turnings to choruses of " are we there yet?"

"Rupert's squashing me."

"Well, he kicked me."

"I'm hungry."

And worst of all, "Mummy, I want to wee."

Until we came to a small clearing. If we thought that this was it, No! This was here the foot patrol began.

"Everybody out and help with the things. No, my sweetie, you can't carry the basket, you are too little; the boys can carry a rug each, Mummy will carry the fishing bags and I will carry the basket. "

We struggled along the path.

Eventually, my love said, "Here we are."

I have to admit that it seemed to me that '_here_' was no different to any of the previous half dozen glades we had passed through.

We spread the rugs. The boys rushed to get their rods and get down to the stream.

"We're hungry. Can we eat now?"

"Later."

"When?"

"Here, have a can each."

It drizzled.

My boys, my lovely boys, all four of them, stood ankle deep in the stream, Lexi sat on the low bank holding her stick with its bit of string.

Patiently.

In the rain.

The fish didn't bite.

They didn't bite the bait, the boys, or Lexi .

I sat under the big fishing umbrella that was part of the treasure trove we found in the attics. My jeans were beginning to feel uncomfortably damp and the neck of my jumper rubbed. My love came and threw himself down beside me.

"Will they catch anything?" I murmured .

" I don't expect so."

I mulled this over.

"Won't they be disappointed?"

"Nah!"

I thought about this.

"I would be, if it were me."

"That, Kate, is because you do not understand the rudiments of fishing."

"The rudiments being –do not expect to catch anything?"

"Exactly, my love. Just enjoy it.

"What? Standing in the water in the rain holding a stick?"

"Now you're getting it."

After some thought on this subject, I became even more convinced than ever of the stupidity of men and the superiority of women, but needless to say, I did not express this view.

After a while, Piers opened the basket and _Whoosh_, the food was gone. Everything except the tomato sandwiches, soggy tomato sandwiches which no-one likes except Piers.

Has anybody heard of someone who likes soggy tomato sandwiches?

He does.

So he finished them off.

The rain was trickling off Lexi's sou'wester onto the collar of her waterproof and down inside her neck.

She sat on my lap and cuddled into me. She sniffed stoically.

By now, the fine drizzle had become somewhat more heavier.

"Time to go, Love." I said.

"Ooh, not yet. " he said.

"No, not yet, Mummy." said the boys.

So Lexi and I sat on the sodden rugs until at last my beloved said "Right. Let's make a move. Mummy and I will pack up and you lot can start along the path, we'll catch you up. Boys, hold Lexi's hands and look after her. Just follow the path."

We threw everything into the basket and taking a handle each, we soon caught them up.

.

"I think straight up into the bath. Warm you up. Lexi in first."

She was turning a nice rosy pink and the boys were undressing behind me as I knelt beside the side of the bath, when Rupert said "We didn't catch anything."

"No." The others joined in.

"They diddunt bite us." Lexi chimed in.

"Oh Lexi!" Big brother Peter said loftily. "They don't bite people."

"Daddy said they bite."

"It means they are eating the flies on the line. We stick the flies on the hooks, they eat them, then the hooks stick in them and we can catch them."

"They is not flies. They is fevvers. Daddy maked them ! I sawed him!"

"Yes Lexi, "This was from Rupert. "They're not flies but the fish _think_ they are."

Lexi thought about this. You could almost see the cogs turning in her little head.

She opened and shut her mouth, then opened it again to carry on with this interesting discussion but I thought it wiser to interrupt.

"Out you get, Lexi." I said and wrapped the towel around her as Piers came through the door with another pile of towels.

Michael put his arms around me and Lexi.

"We had a lovely day, Mummy."

"Did you, darling?"

"Yes" Lexi said, sliding over the side of the bath onto my lap. "Did you, Mummy?"

" Yes, of course I did."

And I realised that yes! I had.

I looked up at my love smiling at me and smiled back.

He really can make the world seem a magical place.

._ .


End file.
